The three of them hurried down the basement steps, eyes scanning for the transmitter mentioned. Time appeared to be against them and they were heavily determined to regain their ground and advantage in this disastrous night. It was essential and the main goal set in mind.
Kiku immediately diverted towards the desk near the shelves he and Alfred had looked over. Books and newspapers and other random objects littered the desk, piling up on forming little mountains.
"Woah, check this out," Gilbert breathed out, limping over to the desk. His back still ached and pricked with pain from the fallen tree branch, but he knew he'd have to manage through it.
Reaching over, the Prussian picked up one of the newspapers, squinting at the cover. A faded picture, seemingly a police sketch, of a man with very light hair and a distinctive large nose stared back at them. A rather thick scarf snaked around his neck, partially covering the scowl on his lips.
WANTED
Mysterious mountain man treading the area. Complaints and concerning statements from victims who wish to remain anonymous warn him to be very dangerous. Please take precaution if crossing paths with this man. It is advised you steer clear of encountering if you can help it.
Printed: September 2013
"This was made 3 years ago." Feliciano mumbled, shuddering a bit at the intimidating sketch of the mysterious man. "Do you think he's still here? What if he's the maniac?"
It didn't need to be stated on what the Italian meant by 'the maniac'. That was the unanimous title they had given the mysterious psychopath who was tormenting them— the one who murdered Alfred.
Gilbert shook his head, pushing the newspaper away with a light laugh.
"No, I doubt it. These look outdated. They probably caught him already or he died of frost bite on these mountains. There's no way someone could live up here and stay alive in a three year time span."
That mere idea seemed absurd. Even before this whole ordeal, the group of friends only stayed up there for a night. Only a night. That was it. No one even wished to stay longer. Whether it was Arthur complaining about the cold or Antonio falling ill from the weather, there always was a silent, overall decision to only stay there a night.
A couple more moments of rummaging through the junk was made before Kiku made a soft 'aha'. He gently brushed away some random slips of paper, revealing the old transmitter he'd mentioned back in the parlor.
Feliciano peeked over, biting his lip anxiously as he stared at the old machine.
"Will it work?" He asked softly. "It looks old..."
Kiku nodded, starting to fiddle with the buttons and antenna that stuck up on the edge. It was pretty old but it still looked to be in good shape and able to work.
"Yes, it should work." Kiku explained monotonously. "Knowing Mr. Jones, he probably has a satellite dish on the roof somewhere on this lodge. Turning this on-" He flicked a switch, causing a red light to blink. "We will be able to send signals and reach out to any towers or transmitters nearby. Seeing as how this is a rather small transmitter, I don't know if it will travel that far... but, there's no waste in trying."
"Will this really get us help?" Gilbert questioned.
Kiku sighed, "If this signal reaches someone, our help is set on them. I can only reach someone and pray that they actually come to us. Both sides have to cooperate, but I'm sure they will... if we reach them."
If. There were so many ifs and grey areas to getting to safety. What if the signal didn't reach anyone? What if it did but whoever took it decided not to heed their pleas? What if they did answer but they couldn't find them? What if help did come but they were slaughtered before they even got there? What if? What if?
The only reliable source they had now was faltering hope. That was all.
Feliciano turned around and began to examine the many other objects the basement contained. The shelves were filled with little figurines and books that were propped up neatly here and there. Piles of clothes and cloth littered the grounds. Organized boxes stacked atop one another against the wall.
On the floor, Feliciano noticed a picture. It was a rather old picture, evident in the poor quality of the camera. Kneeling down, he picked it up and gazed on the front.
It was an old picture of Alfred and Matthew when they were little. Alfred was in mid-laugh, an arm draped over his brother. Matthew was simply smiling in an amused way, looking to his brother as if he was a complete weirdo— a weirdo whom he loved dearly as a brother. It was a genuinely happy picture with both boys exceedingly happy. Unfortunately, that happiness had run out. One of them would never smile again and the other had no one to smile with.
Sighing, Feliciano absentmindedly turned over the photo, wondering if there was a date on the back. There was no date on the back. However, what was on the back made the Italian's face pale and quickly stumble back, dropping the picture.
"Feli? What's wrong?" Gilbert quickly went over to him, leaving Kiku to mess around with the transmitter. Feliciano shook his head frighteningly, pointing a shaky finger at the fallen photography.
Going over, Gilbert picked it up and gazed at the back to see what exactly was wrong with it. His eyes widened as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Oh my God..."
On the back was a message written in very dark red ink, or something that looked like ink. The message read:
You will heed my warnings, Jones. I have told you countless times to leave this mountain; I tried to be nice. You are leaving me very little choices here. If you don't leave his mountain, I will slaughter your precious sons and smear their blood all around your wooden walls. Don't make me carry out my threat.
Gilbert swallowed thickly, staring at the words before him.
"This is messed up..." He breathed, Feliciano whimpering softly. "Someone actually threatened Mr. Jones about this."
"Do you think it's the mountain man?" Feliciano inquired softly, hugging his arms in an attempt to comfort himself.
This was all too much for him. All too much. First, the doubt and discomfort of coming back here after his brother's disappearance to this whole fiasco? It was way too much and he, and almost everyone else, was regretting ever coming back.
Gilbert opened his mouth to respond to the inquiry but suddenly fell silent when there was beeping from the transmitter.
Kiku quickly pressed fast on the button.
"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?" He asked into the transmitter.
The other two forced the prior topic to drop and crowded once more around Kiku. There was static in response to the call out, leaving their anticipation to prolong. Kiku pressed down on the button again.
"Hello? Is someone out there? Please copy. Hello?"
Silence.
"Yes, I copy."
Feliciano let out a sigh of relief, a weak smile flickering on his lips. There was someone out there. Someone was out there and answered their call to help. There was actual some hope for them.
"Hello. Yes. Thank you for copying." Kiku hurriedly said into the transmitter. "Please, we need your help. We're stuck on this mountain, there's been a murder, and we–"
"Please slow down. I can barely understand you. You need help? Where exactly are you?"
"We are at the Jones' land settlement." He responded, assuming they would understand. Alfred's family was a rather rich family and known very well throughout the city.
There was silence on the other end before a reply was given.
"...Okay. We are sending help."
The three boys let out a sigh of relief in unison. This was great. This was wonderful. They were going to be saved. Everything was going to be okay—
"Help will be on the way. Just wait until dawn. It will take us until dawn till we can reach you."
The relief was short lived and quickly followed by shock. Gilbert's eyes widened at that, looking at the clock on the wall of the basement. It was only 8:30pm. They had hours left until dawn.
"But that's so far away!" Kiku exclaimed, shocking Gilbert and Feliciano when they heard the plea in his voice. "Please, there must be another way! Can't you come sooner, sir?! We're risking our lives our here! I-!"
Dead.
A crackling sound stopped any further exclamations. The transmitter had lost signal. No use in communicating now. Feliciano stared wide eyed at it, frozen in place. None of them knew if this was good or not.
Help certainly was coming their way. That was for certain. However, it was coming in hours. Hours of waiting in terrifying uncertainty and unease. Who knew what would happen in those hours? Would those be blissful, peaceful hours of waiting with no more accidents and what their night was supposed to consist of? Or would it unfold more inevitable horrors only someone could imagine?
Feliciano opened his mouth to comment further upon the situation but felt his words be stripped from him as a blood curdling scream.
"Help! Help me! Help me! Someone, please!"
A strained cry erupted from the parlor, followed by the slamming of one of the doors. Without a second thought, the three boys quickly dashed back up the basement stairs towards the cry.
Once reaching the top, they all piled into the parlor and saw someone on the floor, scrambling to get back on his feet. Blonde hair fell before their eyes as fallen glasses lay askew on the floor.
"Matthew! Are you okay?" Gilbert exclaimed, quickly dropping to his knees before the distraught Canadian.
Matthew flinched at the sudden appearance of Gilbert and the others but instantly clung onto the white haired male, burying his face into his jacket.
"He's not th-there... he's not there... he's not there..." Matthew sobbed continuously. His shoulders shook violently as his eyes stared down, wide and unblinking.
"Who's not there?" Feliciano asked cautiously, looking outside.
"Alfred! Alfred isn't there!" He exclaimed rather loudly, surprising the three. Purple hues glistened with tears as he awkwardly stepped back from clinging onto Gilbert, leaving the Prussian with furrowed brows. "Wh-When that tree fell... I ran back to th-the slaughterhouse where we were trapped. I couldn't leave him... not there, not there. I-I couldn't leave his body... I would've died with guilt if I d-did.."
Gilbert, Feliciano, and Kiku listened, looking over Matthew. He was still bloody from Alfred's blood bath yet he looked even more disheveled now.
"I went in there to get him but he... he... he wasn't there! His b-body wasn't there! There was still all th-the blood but Alfred wasn't..." A new wave of wails erupted from the blonde, causing him to bring his hands up to cover his face. He shook his head, "I think someone took him..! The maniac probably took him! Or am animal must've gotten him! Or-!"
"Shut up!"
Matthew suddenly stopped crying when an unexpected voice yelled in his ear. Looking up from his hands with tear soaked eyes, he saw Kiku staring at him with the most broken expression he'd ever seen. Hazel eyes gleamed with threatening tears as his facade was of pure despair.
"Shut... up." He said again, much quieter this time.
He couldn't take it. It was bad enough to have killed his best friend, having blood spill on his hands. Yet, it was even worse to hear further harm had been done to Alfred. He didn't want to ponder on the thought of a wild animal tearing him apart from the limbs, or a psychopath dragging his limp body for whatever pleasure they had in store.
Matthew felt himself break into more tears upon hearing Kiku's outburst without explanation, hands shaking at his sides.
"Hey, lets all just calm down, okay?" Gilbert stepped in, shocked upon both the news and what came from Kiku. "Let's just take a moment to assess the–"
Bam
The front door suddenly shook and trembled violently, causing the four boys to jump in unison. The handle shook and turned as someone viciously tried to get in.
It was the maniac.
"Th-This way!" Matthew cried out, suddenly dashing towards the basement. Gilbert, Kiku, and Feliciano followed without their own thought of where to go, knowing it was better than staying up here.
As they ran down, Feliciano wondered:
What's the basement going to be any help with? It's not like there was much to do or places to hide. Hiding behind boxes and underneath fallen clothes, maybe... but that wasn't enough.
He turned back towards the parlor before disappearing down the basement steps, looking towards the door. It didn't move.
When they made it back into the basement, Matthew went over to a the metal gates that Mr. Jones had instructed them to never trespass. It was said that when they bought this lodge, there were many underground tunnels and places that could be explored other than the ground floor of the house. However, with an odd suspicion and lack of knowledge upon said places, Mr. Jones had warned them to never venture there, weary about what might be dangerous.
Feliciano used to think that was just a scare to keep them in the lodge, but after hearing about the mountain man he was now sure that Mr. Jones's concern was a valid one.
"We can't go in here!" Gilbert whispered, watching Matthew open up the metal gate.
Matthew shook his head, slipping in before pulling the others. "Y-Yes we can! Mr. Jones told me we shouldn't go in unless an emergency and this is an emergency."
There was no time to argue, so Gilbert reluctantly agreed and slipped through. Once all were inside, Matthew shut the gate, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.
Would this protect them? Or, were they already sentenced to be damned like Alfred?
...
It was suddenly cold and dark. That's all Arthur could remember exactly before his senses began to prick back to life. The echoing of his own screams played on repeat in his head all the way down the elevator shaft. It ended abruptly once he reached the end with a hard thud, being silenced by sudden darkness.
Deep down, Arthur wished he would remain in darkness. The thought of waking up and having to face those... wendigos made him want to be dropped into oblivion once again. He wished to forever be in the quiet serenity of darkness, never to wake again. That's what he wanted.
Unfortunately— or maybe fortunately— that couldn't happen.
"Arthur... Arthur."
The Brit stirred where he lied, a muffled voice coming to his ears. It sounded distant yet the feeling of someone touching his hand made him rethink exactly how far the bearer of the voice was. With a great heaviness, Arthur forced open his closed eyes, a mass of dull color and faint white light from the soft moon met his eyes.
It was then Arthur realized his position. He was lying on his back, one arm outstretched to his right with the other over his chest. His leg was twisted in an odd direction whereas the other one was positioned right beneath the broken one. He could feel a warm liquid soaking his side and dripping down his head but couldn't feel exactly how much that hurt.
Before him, coming to view, was Francis lying exactly like him yet wide awake and looking at him with an immense look of worry.
"Arthur— are you okay?" The Frenchman asked quickly, noticing that his boyfriend had awakened.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak only to be silenced by a strained whimper. He looked down to see Francis's hand holding his tightly before looking up to see the worried face of the other. He was alive... Francis was alive.
The Brit turned to move over closer to Francis but suddenly stopped when he felt a twinge in his side. Upon seeing this, Francis forced himself up despite his own aching injuries and went over to Arthur. Gently, he slipped an arm underneath Arthur's back and slowly helped the other up in a sitting position. Almost instantly, Arthur wrapped his arms around Francis's neck and buried his face into the other's shoulder, being mindful of how much pressure he put as to not hurt him.
"I thought you were dead.." Arthur cried, voice soft yet packed with the intense relief and bittersweetness that coated his words. "I thought I was too late to save you... I thought–"
Francis shushed him softly, stroking Arthur's hair lightly, using his other arm to wrap around the other to hold him close. Fresh tears pricked at the corners of his own eyes, falling in a matter of seconds.
"I'm not dead. I promise you, I'm not." The Frenchman whispered back, turning a bit to press a kiss into the side of Arthur's bleeding head. "Thank you for coming to save me. But, cher, you're badly hurt... I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
Arthur suddenly pushed himself away from Francis, instantly regretting it as he flinched at the renounced pain in his side. He leaned once more against Francis, letting his forehead rest on the man's shoulder.
"Y-You're one to talk. You were, what, bloody attacked in the damn forest and forcefully dragged on your arse over here before plummeting I don't even know how many stories down." Arthur mumbled, continuing to whimper.
A gentle laugh escaped Francis as he gingerly put his finger underneath Arthur's chin to tilt his head up. Sapphire locked with emerald and all was still.
"You're right, I am hurt as well. But, we cannot completely disregard your own injuries. You're bleeding from the head and side and, from the looks of it, you have broken a leg."
"You have deep gashes on your bloody chest and back for Christ's sake and your body is practically painted in horrific wounds." Arthur retorted, attempting to make this into an argument of 'who is worse'.
It wasn't particularly a good game to play but, taking under consideration of their current status, a little 'cheer up' was needed.
Francis leaned down to press his lips against Arthur's, silencing the male's irrelevant oppositions. "Calm down; we are alright now. We have each other. Now, let's get out of these mines, non? I don't want to freeze to death." He shuddered, looking down at himself. He was still bare from the waist up with only his pants to keep him warm.
Arthur cracked a small smile at that, nodding his head slowly with delicacy.
"Right... We need to warn the others. I've been informed of what is exactly out there and we all need to leave as fast as we can."
The recollection of memories upon Ivan and the newly learnt information upon the mountain's history resurfaced in his mind. That was right... They still didn't know what was happening. Arthur wondered what happened to Ivan, knowing that he had left the man suddenly when he was tossed down the elevator shaft.
Shaking that away, Arthur sighed. "I swear, when I see Alfred again, I'm going to pummel him for making us go out here in the first place. It's all his damn fault."
...
Is your identity slipping? Be careful; you don't want your little prank to fall short. They mustn't know who you are until the finale of this whole plan. It would be extremely anticlimactic if it failed due to your own carelessness.
Shut up. This is going to be perfect.
Ha. Whatever you say —.
How do you know my name?
_
A/N:
wow! an update! this must be a miracle!
sorry I've been super busy with school and staying active on my ask blog lololol
anyways, this is practically the end point of all the boring, informational stuff~
shit's gonna go down next chapter and the chapter after that and oh boy
still, any guesses on who the mysterious person, aka the maniac, is? :-)
I love hearing your guesses.
they give me a good laugh.